Help me Remember
by Toxic Emotion
Summary: Have you read the original? Well, this has more secrets, more mystery, and more...stuff. And hopefully more excitement! So meet Tibia Crus, just a white blood cell trying to get by working at a cafe in Bob. She's normal, right? And Osmosis Jones. Well, we know everything about him, don't we? Er, no. And then there's Thrax...well, let's just say there are secrets everywhere.
1. Guess Who?

**A/N: Have you read the original version of this story? Well, even if you have, I suggest reading this version too. The only thing left is the basic plot; it's been completely rehashed! I originally tried to just change the original a bit, but I quickly realized that to be fixed, it needed to be completely redone. So...yeah. This is what I ended up with. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

(Tibia)

_"Mommy? Daddy?" My voice seemed to echo in the blankness around me. There was nothing but gray, no sound but my own voice and my breathing. I was alone._

_ But not alone. I turned around as light footsteps could be heard behind me. "Come with me, honey. I'll help you find your parents."_

Something nudged against my shoulder, causing the familiar dream to fade. "Tibia, dear, would you mind helping out at the counter? The lunch crowd just started to arrive." It was my boss, Mrs. "Granny" Atkins. She owned the café, Granny's Kitchen, which also happened to be a popular hangout for cells and germs alike. "Everyone's welcome," was Mrs. Atkins's favorite phrase.

I blushed in embarrassment; I'd fallen asleep on my break. "Sorry. I'll…I'll just…go and…"

"Don't upset yourself dear. I understand," Mrs. Atkins replied, waving away my apology cheerfully. She patted my shoulder as I stood up before she hobbled off to make conversation with some customers sitting at another table. They were germs, but Mrs. Atkins always treated everyone with the same friendliness. It was just who she was. She and I were the only people at the café who could really stand to be around them, though.

Lost in thought, I screwed up several orders before Mrs. Atkins pulled me aside. "Why don't you take a break?" she suggested, telling her granddaughter Mimi to take my place.

"I just took a break a little while ago," I protested as Mrs. Atkins led me to a table in the back to sit down.

"Well, then why don't you just take another one?" was the reply. "Now…is something bothering you, dear? You seem to be distracted." Mrs. Atkins looked at me concernedly across the table. "Are you still upset about earlier? Don't worry about it, okay?"

"It's not about that…" I sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just…" Telling her about the dream/memory probably wouldn't be a good idea; my past was a touchy subject.

"Just what?" Mrs. Atkins prompted. But my attention was no longer on our conversation. I had noticed the familiar virus sitting in the corner of the room, at a table under the one broken light. He was surrounded by germs in the shadows; they looked like they were having a serious meeting or something.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted, "He's supposed to be—"

_ Dead._

Mrs. Atkins looked confused. I looked back at her, feigning nonchalance. "Nevermind, I just thought I saw someone I knew, that's all." Even though she didn't look convinced, she didn't pursue the subject, much to my relief. "Well, I'll just get back to work then. No more mistakes," I promised in a falsely cheerful voice. Before Mrs. Atkins could say anything else, I hurried back to my place at the counter and let Mimi go back to the kitchen to help cook. Just one more time, I glanced back at the shaded table.

The virus—Thrax—was still there.

"Tibia, are you even listening?" Mimi—my best friend as well as my coworker—demanded impatiently. We were lounging in the living room of my apartment, sort of watching a movie. Well, she was sort of watching a movie. I was arguing with myself. _Should I call Immunity? Is it worth the risk?_

"Huh?" was my genius reply. I hadn't even heard Mimi say anything.

Mimi sighed, somehow managing to sound exasperated and amused at the same time. She obviously didn't notice the war being waged in my head. Standing up, she stretched and gave herself permission to visit my kitchen. "I asked you two questions," I heard Mimi call from the other room. She came back into the living room a moment later with a bag of chips. "One, do you like my new hat? And two, do you like working at the café?" As she sat back down and popped a couple of chips in her mouth, Mimi held out the bag. "You want some?"

Despite my stressful situation, I couldn't help giggling a bit. "Thanks for offering to let me eat my own food, but no thanks. I'm not hungry right now."

"You're not hungry? Do you _ever _eat?" Mimi looked at me quizzically.

Defensively, I replied. "Well, _yeah _I eat!" _…Sometimes. _"I'm just not hungry right now," I concluded.

"You know, I thought only humans could be anorexic…but sometimes I worry about you," Mimi commented. "You eat like a virus; barely ever."

That made me mad. "I'm not—!" Biting back the rest of my sentence, I reminded myself to keep my temper in check. _She doesn't know, don't worry, _I told myself. "What did you ask earlier?" I changed the subject and Mimi repeated her questions.

Her question about her hat was a serious one, I noted with a bit of amusement. _Mimi's always had a thing for hats,_ I reminded myself as I inspected the striped winter hat adorned with little pom-pom things hanging from the sides. "Yes, your hat is very cute," I decided. The second question was more difficult, though. Slowly, I said, "Working at the café…it's okay, I guess. Your grandma's a good boss, and it has a nice atmosphere, but…" I sighed.

The light from the movie—which we were both pretty much ignoring at that point—cast flickering lights and shadows over Mimi's reddish membrane as she played with one of the pom-poms hanging from the side of her hat. She obviously didn't miss the hint of wistfulness in my voice when I'd spoken, despite my efforts to keep it hidden. "If you could do _anything_ in Bob, what would it be? What's your dream job?"

"What's _your_ dream job?" I shot back, hoping to avoid the question by getting her absorbed in her own story.

Mimi rolled her eyes, knowing what I was trying to do. "No fair avoiding the question, Tibs." But, seeing no answer forthcoming, she answered. "I'm probably going to just take over the café someday. But you're lucky; you can do _anything _you want. So what _do_ you want to do?"

With a resigned sigh, I finally began to reply. "My dream job would be…" _Who am I kidding? That wouldn't work out…besides, it would essentially be betrayal to Mom…._But the words slipped out. "An Immunity cell."

Mimi stopped messing with the pom-pom on her hat and grinned at me. "Then why _don't _you do it? You know how awesome that would be?"

Blushing, I hurried to backtrack. "Well, I couldn't really. Since I'm, you know…not good at…fighting and stuff." I finished lamely.

"Bull _spit!_ Tibia, even I'm scared of you when you've got your red-head temper going on! And I know you better than anyone; I know you wouldn't hurt me. But think about it. Wouldn't it be so awesome to keep those stupid little germs from overrunning the city? You could have your gun, and run around…and be like a superhero!" Mimi was babbling like a hyper little kid, like she always did when something got her excited. Usually, I thought it was actually kind of funny, but I had to keep myself in check to not get mad.

She didn't understand! "Mimi…no." I said simply, keeping my voice low so I wouldn't start yelling. There was no reason to be upset with her. It was my mom's fault, and Thrax's, in a way. And mine. _Thrax…I almost forgot. Should I…?_ My gaze wandered to my purse on the coffee table, with my cell phone in it.

"Why not?" Mimi asked in . But before I could form a reply, the TV screen changed to an emergency update on the news.

_What, did Bob drink too much beer again?_ I wondered, hoping it was no big deal. _Not Thrax. Not Thrax,_ I chanted in my head. The newscaster confirmed my fear. "Temperatures are rising in the city of Bob. The cause is unknown, though there are rumors of a dangerous virus on the loose…"

I didn't need to hear anything else. "Thrax, you…" I didn't finished the sentence. My phone was in my hand, and I decided to take the risk to call Immunity.

"Do you know where this virus is?" asked the lady on the other end when I explained.

I hadn't thought of that. "Uh…no." Suddenly, a tearing sound came from my door, and it started to melt away as if it were burning.

"What in Bob—" Mimi exclaimed.

"Mimi, get out of here!" I ordered my friend, pushing her toward the bedroom and the fire escape. She didn't need to be told twice; Mimi crawled out the window onto the stairs and started downward. But just as I began to follow, a hand grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me back roughly. Mimi was already too far down the fire escape to notice.

"Hi, baby," said the smooth voice I knew too well.

"You!" I shouted when I turned my head. But no matter how much I tried to get away from him, his grip on my shoulder stayed firm.

Thrax grinned, apparently not worried in the least about anything. "Miss me, babe?"

**A/N: Hmm...how about, no. Wait, yes! Because without Thrax, this would be a story about...I don't even know. There probably wouldn't be a story. Oh, and don't forget to read the "Hi, baby," the exact way Thrax said it in the movie. :) **

**Please, please, pleeeease leave a review, even if you hated it! Be honest, I don't want a bunch of, "Oh, this was cool," comments from people who couldn't stand it! Anything-praise, constructive critisism (heck, even destructive critisism!) is greatly appreciated!  
**

***le random Thrax appears*  
**

**Thrax: *reads chapter* Baby, I wouldn't be hangin' out in any place called Granny's Kitchen, ya dig?  
**

**Me: You would, too! I know you were sitting there checking out them fine lady germs, weren't you?  
**

**Thrax: ...  
**

**Don't ask, my mind does random things sometimes... XD  
**


	2. Six Months Later

(Osmosis)

_"Mason!"_

"Ozzy?" I opened my eyes at the sound of Drix's voice, free from my nightmare memory. _He must have picked the lock again._

Sitting up and yawning, I said," Drix, you're not supposed to invite yourself in like that, remember?"

"Sorry, but…" he pointed at the clock with his regular hand.

I was out of bed in an instant. "Spit! We're gonna be late for work!" My dream was forgotten for the moment. Right then, my main goal was to _not_ get fired…because, as I'd learned the hard way six months before, getting my job _back_ might require almost dying.

Work was the usual, just rounding of small, obnoxious groups of germs. And getting on the chief's nerves. And then having Drix remind me—again—that "hero" or not, the chief probably wouldn't hesitate to fire me if I pushed too far. "Yeah, yeah. I get it already, Drix!" I muttered in response to his latest lecture as we left at the end of the day. He sighed, but dropped the subject. I turned on the radio in the car (a new one, a convertible. I got kinda tired of watching Drix bend the top all the time, and I can't imagine it was very comfortable) to hide the irritated silence.

Finally, Drix spoke. "Hey, Ozzy…isn't your birthday coming up in a few weeks?" I nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. "What are you planning to do?"

With a quiet sigh, I mumbled, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Drix seemed surprised. "You're not going to visit your family or anything?" After a moment, he mused, "You know, I don't think I've met any of your family…do you have any siblings?" It was just a casual, friendly question, but it felt like a slap in the face. Not sure what to say, or even _feel_, I responded by turning up the radio. Drix took the hint, and the rest of the drive was silent except the blaring of the music. Neither of us even said anything as we separated to go to our own apartments in the building.

_"You're…going away for a while."_

_ "Where?"_

_ "It's a place where…troubled boys…they can get help." The walls were closing in. I couldn't breathe._

_ "But…" They thought I was just a problem._

I woke up back in my apartment, back in the present. Shaking my head to clear the terrible memory, I sat up. The entire exchange from that day was permanently branded into my mind, still crystal clear if only I ever wanted to remember it. But I wanted to forget.

After wasting almost an hour trying to get back to sleep, I finally gave up. The clock on my nightstand said it was two in the morning. I glanced at my dresser, at the bottom drawer. _Should I…?_ My legs swung over the edge of the bed, and carried me across the room. Kneeling down, I opened the drawer, something I hadn't done in a month and a half. The last time I'd opened it was to toss in all the photos, the notes, the torn off corner of paper with Leah's phone number after we broke up. That drawer was for all the things I couldn't stand to look at, but couldn't bear to throw away. They were all there.

Digging deeper, I found the medal I'd gotten for saving Frank. It was a nice gesture, but it only reminded me that I _wasn't_ a hero. Thrax was dead, but so were so many others I should have saved. Including one cell that meant the world to me….Besides, no one in Frank ever really thought about Thrax anymore, and no one noticed me when I went around town. A lot could change in six months. Heck, a lot can change in two days, or even just ten seconds. I knew that better than anyone.

At the very bottom of the drawer, underneath all the other half-forgotten things from my past, was a comic book. Just a simple comic book with wrinkled, faded pages. Inside the front cover I found a crude drawing of something that resembled two cells fighting a virus. It was my own depiction of my brother and I as partners; I was four years old when I drew the picture. Also tucked into the comic book was a photo of my family. Mason, Mom, Dad, and me. It was from when I was four as well.

A year later, my big brother Mason disappeared.

Scribbled inside the front cover of the comic book itself was a note, written in smudged black ink.

To my lil man, Ozzy.

A superhero story for a future hero…

Happy fifth birthday!

Remember—your big bro is always gonna be here for you.

"Liar," I whispered as I closed the comic book.

* * *

**A/N: I am such a bad person! I took Ozzy's bro away! But what _is_ his past? What happened to his brother? Where's the rest of his family? And will Thrax come back to Frank? And why am I asking you these questions when I'm the one in charge of the story? Now _there's _a good question, if I do say so myself.**

**Hehe, Ozzy's so oblivious! Thrax isn't dead, silly!  
**

**This chapter is too short! *flips table* But I couldn't think of anything to add, so I hope this satisfies you. Again, please R&R! And if it upsets anyone that I redid this story, I'm sincerely sorry, but I'm not changing it back. I couldn't stand the other one. It was just too...pfft. Anyway, I'll be back soon, with yet another chapter! *Zooms off to fulfill promise* Btw, I'm in a weird mood! :3 *Zooms off again***


End file.
